Tap tap tap, scratch, scratch, tap.  Slowly my eyes adjusted to the soft morning light seeping into my bedroom. I was alive, was my first thought. Now that I am preoccupied with death, I was pleased to note that I was still with other mortals.

Not always do they please or excite me, nevertheless they are what I identify with.  The tapping and scratching began again and I struggled to find what the source was. My anti-morning-glare eyes finally detected something furry on the window ledge. Of course on the outside of the window. Heck, what a pandemonium that would be had the fur been on the inside.

I have become old and easily freaked. I wasn’t always like that as I  remember drag racing on a one-way streets, along the airport road  crashing my car into a 15 foot wall of sand; I had to be dragged out. since that time I believe I have swapped out nerves of steel for wisdom. Although I was never able to kill a spider, but I wouldn’t scream for the Marines if I saw one. When my eyes adjusted, I found myself staring into the beadiest eyes ever.

On my window sill was a Squirrel scratching and trying to find a way into the room. In Jamaican vernacular, I silently thought, “a wah dis doah? weh im a go? but si yah!”.

I watched it carry on for a good five minutes. Many random thoughts assailed me. Should I open the window a tad and “box im rass affa di winda”

Should I open the window a tad and give it some of the nuts I  hoarded in my kitchen?

Should I open the window and pet it? None of the above appealed to me.

I flung off the covers because of the usual early morning hot flash. Please note the A/C was running.

I went to the window and lowered my kind of-stiff unclothed frame to be eye level with the creature. This I thought would terrify it. A helpless squirrel face to face with a naked Jamaican lady at eigth thirty in the morning. That should kill the thing. It should kill most things. The little fur ball stared back.

“You well brite enuh!” I was aghast at the bravery. I tapped the window where its’ face was. It blinked.

Wait a minute! Is this the spirit of my dead mother trying to get into the house?

“Why dont you use the front door ma?”

I moved my fingers along the glass. The beady eyes followed. It then occurred to me that I could be dreaming.

My stomach gave me the coffee heave-ho.

I was not dreaming. “What the heck”, I thought, it cant come in here so I wont waste anymore time with it.

I tried to straighten up and to my horror realized that I was fixed in the bend-over position. ‘How odd’, I mused.

I walked crooked to the kitchen, there I held the counter and straightened out  to my full five feet and six inches. Stood on my toes to grab a few more inches. Breathed in and out. There! morning exercise completed.  drank the coffee mindlessly at the counter and read a Jehovah witness hand-out I received the evening before only to realize that I was not going to Paradise. Strange!!

After coffee, I went back to check on my visitor. No longer in sight, I settled down with Comedy Central. The guy was good. Never found out his name. It was too early to be introduced to anyone except errant squirrels sans respect for privacy or fear of the feminine mystique. 

Respectfully submitted-“The naked lady”